


Exponential Workout

by sabrina_il (marina)



Series: The House Series [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blow Jobs, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Gentleness, Gym Sex, Gyms, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Kink, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Praise Kink, Public Blow Jobs, Sex Toys, the one where someone actually has an orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21659254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/pseuds/sabrina_il
Summary: As time goes on, Alex finds his desires are changing, and the House is changing with them.
Series: The House Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1367461
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Exponential Workout

**Author's Note:**

> I'm about to start the second proper draft of my book but meanwhile I'm sick and need something fun and distracting to sink into, so I typed this story straight into the AO3 window until it was out of my brain. Please let that be your warning.

I closed my eyes, letting myself feel the burn in my muscles, the solid bench under my back, my fingers clenched around the heavy metal bar, pushing it up as high as my arms can go. When I'd seen guys lifting weights before, I'd always assumed the round things on the side were what mattered. But spending weeks in the gym with Ben taught me the bar itself was heavy too. The first week I started lifting he didn't even put any weight on it, just handling that thing was enough for me.

But now there was some weight on each side. Not a lot, but enough for me to feel it, enough to make me break out a sweat, and lose track of my breath until Ben, standing over me, started counting again, "One... two... three..." forcing me to breathe deeper, steadier. 

After almost a month at the house, my body was changing, in all kinds of ways. I was stronger now, I could run longer distances, with no walking breaks. I could swim more laps in the pool. There was a tennis court on the grounds where Ben had me and Jordan play endless rounds sometimes, and after an hour spent running around in the sun, trying to hit the ball properly, I no longer felt like I needed to collapse on the ground. I'd given up drinking coffee completely. I slept better. 

There were other changes, too. The evenings I spent with Ben had become... more elaborate. 

Lying on the weightlifting bench, struggling to keep up my breathing, feeling beads of sweat slide into my hair, I tried to stop thinking about two nights ago. Ben taking me into a bedroom, with the same anonymous man lounging in a giant bed, fully dressed, observing as Ben positioned me under what looked like a metal towel rack, hung too high to be useful for any sort of towel, and telling to extend my arms upwards and grab hold of it with both hands. 

Ben unwrapping the towel from around my hips, as usual, like a gift he was giving this stranger, letting the damp cloth drop to the floor, and then, instead of putting his hands on me, bringing over some kind of device, like a vibrating dildo on a very long cord, and hanging it from the same towel rack, without any part of it touching my fingers, letting it dangle down until the soft, white, spongy head of it was level with my cock.

At first Ben had grabbed it, pressed it right against the head of my cock and made me spasm and howl. The vibrations were so strong, almost like an electric shock, like my body was a gong and Ben had struck it full force. He'd let go immediately, letting me pant for moment, looking up at my hands, as if to make sure they were still holding on, not coming down to interfere. 

And then, then he'd done the worst thing, that thing he was so good at, that had become so effortless, the longer I'd been at the house.

He'd told me I was a good boy, that I was doing so well, that he was proud of me, and I had felt my heart constrict, a wave of relief had washed over me, letting me breathe again. 

In the gym, I lowered the bar again, letting my arms rest, breathing heavy. 

"Good work, champ," Ben said, standing over me so I was looking up at him, my head roughly level with his crotch. "We'll do another set and then I think you're done for today."

Somewhere nearby I could hear Jordan's occasional soft grunts, as he did his stretches. 

I gave myself a few breaths to calm down, closing my eyes again and biting the inside of my lip to make the images go away. That night, after I'd calmed down, Ben asked if he could put his mouth on me, and I nodded, delirious, unable to imagine it. He'd grabbed me, gently, and put the head of my cock in his mouth, sucking on it, running his tongue over the slit. I'd shut my eyes so tight, trying to block out the vision of him kneeling and sucking me, trying not to come, but a few moments later it was over, and he got up, smiling, his hand caressed my cheek, like he was amused by my reaction, and then he turned the vibrator on again, and let it run.

It hung loosely in the area of my cock, and every time I moved the cord jerked, making the white, spongy head come in contact with me, making me jerk and moan, like a viscous cycle. Ben held me, wrapped around me from the left side, arms caressing my chest and sides, whispering "shh, it's okay," into my ear occasionally. Every time the vibrator touched my cock it was like a pulse of too-much, pleasure and stimulation, inescapable, out of my control. The sound I was making became one uninterrupted chorus of gasps and moans. The man on the bed, his brown eyes were so piercing, but I couldn't look away. As always, his presence was an extra layer of weight, multiplying everything Ben was doing to me, making it more intense somehow. 

"Shh, just a few more," Ben had eventually whispered to me, his thumb caressing my nipple, and the vibrator touched me again, and I jerked, and Ben held me, and I felt like I was coming apart. 

And then, in the space of a breath, it was over, and the vibrator was just dead weight against my thighs, and Ben was hugging me even more fiercely, pressing soft kisses into my hair. 

It had to be being here, in this weird out-of-time world of this house, that made my body unable to forget any of it. It had gotten worse over time. 

I used to feel horny occasionally, of course, but now it was harder and harder to put out of my mind. And it was no longer just about coming. I imagined the other guys fucking me. I imagined giving a blowjob to the nice gardener who was pruning the roses while we were on our morning run. I couldn't stop imagining what Jordan got up to, in his private times with Ben, with that collar that had appeared on him one day and never gone away. 

It didn't help that half the time now I woke up to find Jordan sleeping in Rob's bed, across the room, instead of in the bed next to mine. I hadn't exchanged more than a few words with Rob, since he and Brandon spent their days with Chris, but I knew he'd been at the house the longest. 

Our beds weren't big enough for two people, not really, but they weren't small either. There was enough space for an average sized guy to toss and turn and feel comfortable. Or for two guys to squeeze together tightly, which was how Jordan and Rob made it work. Rob was usually facing the door, while Jordan spooned him from behind, crotch pressed to Rob's ass, arms wrapped around him like an octopus. 

It wasn't against the rules, they both had their cock cages on and they were dressed in the same clothes they wore to bed. But seeing them made me wonder what it was about, how they could want to touch each other so badly but spend all their days apart. I'd caught them kissing, one day, when Brandon was in one bathroom and I was coming out of the other. They just sat on Jordan's bed, kissing, Rob's hands holding Jordan's face. They hadn't pull apart when I came in. 

I didn't understand how it worked between them, exactly. But seeing them was like torture in a way, a constant reminder. It used to be easier to distract myself. 

"Alright, champ, that's enough," I heard Ben say, bringing me back to the present. I felt like I was hard all the time now, even when my dick was totally soft. 

Ben helped me by grabbing the bar from my hands and putting it back on the stand. I took a few deep breaths, feeling my heart settling down, slowly. Ben smiled down at me, his usual slightly sardonic but pleased smile, his shorts still inches from my face, and all I knew in that moment was how much I _wanted_.

"Ben," I said, closing my eyes, swallowing. 

"What's up, Alex?" he prompted when I didn't go on. 

Using my name now, not an endearment. This was serious. 

"I don't know if I'm allowed..." I began, and swallowed again because it felt like there was a lump in my throat. 

"Questions are always allowed," Ben said, steady and solid, as always. "Whatever it is, just ask." 

"I want to... uh..." I said. "Can I give you a blowjob?"

My eyes were still closed. I was lying on the bench, my breaths slower now. 

I felt the palm of his hand press down in the middle of my chest. I swallowed again, bracing myself, and opened my eyes. 

"Get up, sweetheart," he said, his tone gentler now, his hands pulling me up until I was sitting upright and he was standing in front of me. 

His hand took hold of my chin, forcing me to look up. He locked eyes with me, and I took in his short black hair, pale green eyes, thick eyebrows. His mouth, lips thin because he was thinking, evaluating me, waiting for something. 

"How long have you wanted to ask that?" 

I didn't have to think about it. "A week? More or less."

"It's getting difficult lately, isn't it?" he said, not letting go on my chin. "It's been ramping up for you."

I didn't know what to say. "I feel like it should... be easier," I confessed. "It's easier for Jordan." The last was almost a whisper. 

Ben gave a small laugh. "It really isn't," he said. He let go of my chin, and went over to a different machine, with a much smaller, padded bench, and pads you could press together for an arm workout.

"Jordan," he said, before sitting down, turning to where Jordan was about to finish his stretches. "Thirty push-ups, then do your leg exercises, then the rowing machine."

Jordan nodded, getting to his feet, and Ben sat down and motioned to me. "Come here, Alex."

The moment had an unreal quality to it. I'd been in this room, with Jordan and Ben, so many times. But this was the first time we were doing to do... this. 

I got up and walked, feeling a little shaky, steadier with every step, until I was in front of Ben. 

"You wanna do this kneeling, sweetheart?" Ben said. "Or some other way?"

He said it loudly enough for Jordan to hear, but Jordan didn't react beyond giving me a brief look and then dropping down again to start his push-ups. 

"However you want to is fine," I said, meaning every word. 

"Alright then," Ben said, and waited. 

The next move was up to me. I got down on one knee, and then the other, and Ben spread his legs, let me settle between them. 

"Here's the thing, sweetheart," he said, hand cradling my face again, now that we were almost eye-to-eye. "If we do this I'm going to come. You okay with that?" 

Of course, that made sense. I wasn't allowed to come, but Ben was, Chris was. I hadn't thought that far, but obviously Ben didn't get off on denying himself the way he did for us. Otherwise spending all day with us would have been torture for him. 

I nodded. 

"Think about that for a second," Ben said. "Close your eyes. Imagine it."

I obeyed. 

"Good," Ben said. "Where do you imagine my come going?"

I opened my eyes. "In my mouth," I said, without even thinking about it. I missed the feeling of sucking cock so much, I just wanted to swallow and swallow until there was nothing left of him. 

Ben gave his small smile again. "Not an option. Other thoughts?"

"I don't care," I said. "Wherever."

"Alright," Ben said, after examining my face for a moment. "We'll get back to that." 

His hand let go of me. 

"Alright, sweetheart," he said, leaning back on the bench. "It's your show. Do whatever feels right."

Before I came here, if I were ever in the position of sucking off a guy in public, I'd probably not waste any time and just dive straight in. But now I felt like what was being offered to me was a feast, and I felt the hunger in every cell in my body. I leaned in, putting my hands hesitantly on top of Ben's thighs, and rubbed my face against his shorts. I felt the hardness of his dick through the fabric, rubbed my cheek against it, inhaled the musky, tangy smell, with a faint layer of something clean, some kind of laundry detergent underneath. The shorts must have been fresh from the laundry that day. Did Ben get the same laundry services we did? He must get them, when would he have the time otherwise?

I mouthed Ben's dick through his shorts, heard a faint chuckle coming from above me. What was I doing? It was like some kind of slow-motion porno. And Jordan was probably seeing all of this in between his sets. But I didn't care, I just wanted to taste Ben. 

I pulled back, unsure how to get around the fabric barrier, but when I tugged on the waistband of his shorts Ben lifted up his hips from the bench and let me pull them down. He was wearing a black jockstrap underneath. Together we pulled both it and the shorts down to his calves, effectively trapping him, constricting his movement. 

I could have him like this, all to myself, I could put my mouth on him and do whatever I wanted. 

His cock looked so mundane, average, somehow out of place with how extraordinary, maybe even otherworldly, Ben always seemed. I bent down to wrap my mouth around the head, taste that soft, warm skin, wrap my lips around his shaft, and I felt his fingers in my hair. Not holding, or pushing, just caressing. I felt him slowly getting harder, as I sucked, pulling my head up and down, my hands still on his legs. 

He gave a faint moan. "Feels so good, sweetheart," he said, voice a little breathy, and the words were like a current of pleasure, I felt them in every part of my body.

HIs other hand, the one not caressing my hair, came down on my shoulder, pushed down to my elbow, settling on my hand on top of his thigh. He prodded to twine our fingers together, and I went along with it. I could feel a weak squeeze every time I took him deep enough that his cock hit the back of my throat. 

He was breathing faster. "Getting close now, sweetheart." I could feel his fingers in my hair spasming occasionally. 

Suddenly I felt him lean forward, almost curl up. His hand untangled from mine and he pushed me away, gently. My mouth disconnected from his cock with a wet pop, and a string of saliva connected us for an impossibly long moment before I drew away too far, and all I could feel was wetness on my lips and the sense that something in my mouth was missing. 

He looked down at me. His black irises were much larger than before, and his hair a little sweaty. "Where do you want it, Alex?" he asked, the question startling me out of my stupor. "On you? Or somewhere else? Show me."

He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, raising it in the air. I got the hint, I was supposed to literally touch the spot. 

Did I want his come on me? I'd have to wash it off, go back to the showers, to the bedroom, in the state I'm in now. 

No, that felt like a bad idea.

I ran my hand up to his stomach, pushed his shirt up, getting a glimpse of the sparse hair over his pale skin. "Here," I said, rubbing his belly. 

"Alright," he said, and his smile had a little extra indulgence in it. "Go on, then."

He leaned back again, and I took his cock back into my mouth, stifling a moan because sucking him felt so good. I didn't want the cage off, didn't want to be naked, didn't want someone to be touching me. Just being here, making him feel good, letting my senses get overwhelmed with feeling his body, it was all I needed, everything I'd been craving. It felt like an all-body pleasure, hearing the quiet sounds he was making, feeling how hot his cock was in my mouth. 

"Alright, sweetheart," he said, finally, pushing me away. I let a few inches separate us but didn't really draw back. I wanted to see everything. He grabbed his own cock, wet with my saliva, and jerked himself once, twice, three times, and then he was groaning, and coming, his shirt was pushed up to his armpits, and the pale, slightly translucent liquid was landing on his abs, trickling down to his bellybutton. 

He was breathing heavily, smiling down at me. "Thank you, sweetheart." His hand was caressing my cheek. "That was very good." 

Suddenly his eyes moved away from me, to focus on something behind me. 

"You done with the rowing machine?" he asked, casually, as if he was asking Jordan whether he wanted breakfast. 

"Uh huh," I heard Jordan say. "Can I... would you let me..." I heard him take a step and then I could feel him, standing right behind me. Ben was looking up at him, hand still on my cheek. 

"Ask, Jordan, every question is okay," Ben said, calmly, like he wasn't sitting here with his pants pulled down and come on his stomach. 

I heard Jordan move behind me, and then he was next to me, on his knees, on Ben's left side, pressed up against his leg. "Can I... can I clean you up?"

Ben's eyes shifted back to me. "I think that would be okay," Ben said. "Right, Alex?"

I nodded. In that moment I realized that's what I'd wanted to do. I'd wanted to lick Ben's come off of him, that's why I wanted it on his skin. "I can share," I said. 

Ben laughed. "Generous," he said, to me, and then looked back at Jordan. "Alright, sweetheart, come here," he said, more softly, and Jordan bent down, holding Ben's shirt up with one hand, licking the cooling come from his stomach with the other. 

I gave myself a few seconds to take in the sight, to enjoy being here, with Ben half immobile, me and Jordan fully dressed and him being half naked, at our mercy, and then leaned in too, tasting the bitter, salty liquid and getting more pleasure from it than I'd ever imagined I would. I wondered if Jordan would want to kiss me, both of us sharing Ben's come, make a spectacle of it, but Ben kept a gentle hand on each of our heads until Jordan pulled away, and then eventually I did too, when Ben's skin tasted clean and wet with nothing but saliva. 

"Alright," Ben said, pushing us away and pulling his shirt down. He pulled up his jockstrap and shorts, tucking himself back inside carefully. "Both of you, get up." 

I moved away reluctantly and got up, one knee at a time, feeling a little wobbly. 

"Alex, I want sets of twenty crunches with sets of seven squats in the intervals," Ben said, letting out a heavy breath. "Jordan, your turn on the weightlifting bench."

I went to get one of the plastic mats, since doing crunches on them was easier on my back, and watched Jordan lie down on the bench, with Ben standing over him. 

He'd question us later, probably after lunch, I knew that. Ben asked us about everything, but he also gave us time to think and process. What would I tell him when he asked me about this later? How did I feel? The truth was, right then I felt fucking wonderful.


End file.
